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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291092">Clarity.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/outpastthemoat/pseuds/outpastthemoat'>outpastthemoat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Force philosophy, Gen, Master &amp; Padawan Relationship(s), Meditation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:08:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291092</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/outpastthemoat/pseuds/outpastthemoat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mace first sees the crystal when he invites his new padawan to meditate with him.    </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Depa Billaba &amp; Mace Windu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jedi-Friendly</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Clarity.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mace first sees the crystal when he invites his new padawan to meditate with him.    </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Depa holds the crystal tightly in her fist, her eyes closed and with the frown her master has started to wonder might be permanently sealed upon her forehead already deeply entrenched on her brow.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He folds his smile away.  Depa is so young, yet so serious—at least with him, for now.  Mace has caught glimpses of her sly, teasing humor since she was a young girl, her dark eyes gleaming with laughter.  But for now, she sits with her back straight as the trunk of the ashir tree that grows in the heart of the mediation forest-gardens, her hair bound in tight braids and pulled back off her forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Relax, young one,” Mace says mildly, and Depa narrowly opens one eye, to judge his mood, he realizes.   She loosens her posture slightly, and her fingers fall open to reveal the meditation crystal she holds.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lusianite, is that right?” he queries, and his student nods.  Depa holds the crystal out to show him, opaque and as dark gray as smoke.  “A peculiar crystal,” he observes.  “Not particularly rare, but unusual.  Not worth much in this state, but over time, and under the right circumstances, it might transform into something else.  Who gave it to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks at him warily.  “A master in the creche.  When I was just a girl.  I had trouble meditating.  He said an anchor might help with that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace steeples his fingers together.  “You have a question.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hesitation, then a sudden streak of boldness.  Mace will come to recognize this as his padawan’s signature move in combat, one day.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you choose me for your padawan?” Depa demands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why shouldn’t I have chosen you?  Do you not have the highest honors, the strongest performance in your class?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do.”  The girl lifts her chin, not in pride, but merely to meet his gaze.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why do you question my decision?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I remember their deaths,” Depa says slowly.  “My parents.  I watched it happen.  My sister did not see—I would not let her.  I remember my name, from my life before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were only an infant,” Mace remembers.  It never fails to amaze him, how Force-sensitive young ones can remember impressions, emotions, from their earliest moments of life.  An unkindness of the Force, he has always supposed; an additional burden to carry throughout their lives.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes study him.  “I’m always angry,” Depa murmurs.  And inside her palm, her fingers press down on the lusianite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I recovered you from that ship,” Mace tells her.  “I have felt your anger, Depa.  These feelings are not unknown to me.  What I wonder is only how you use it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Depa makes a fist around the lusianite crystal.  Her fingers do not grip it tightly, but Mace can feel, in the Force, how she presses against the rock, the tremendous push-press of her energy against the crystal in her palm.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His padawan carries the crystal for years, always pressed tightly between her palms when she meditates with him, more often hanging around her neck or tucked into her padawan braid as her sole decorative ornament.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had come to him one night, her eyes calm.  “Teach me Vaapad,” Depa asks him.  Her eyes are bright, and sharp.  Not eagerness, but something more.  Readiness, perhaps.  It remains to be seen.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Prove to me that you are capable,” Mace told her, and for days now he has watched his student on her self-appointed mission to prove her aptitude.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now she slips through the doors to his personal quarters and stands wearily in front of him, her chin almost touching her chest.  Mace feels a wave of tenderness towards her for that.  His proud padawan, who never grows tired, who never missteps, who demands perfection from herself; she places so much weight upon her own shoulders.  And now she is undone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have failed you, master,” Depa says, and kneels to the floor at his feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How so?” Mace asks.  He keeps his face still.  He does not want her to read judgement in his gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I cannot prove to you that I am ready,” she admits.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You already have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reaches out and takes her hand, and she looks at him curiously but willingly lets him move away her fingers.  The lusianite crystal is there, pressed to her palm, as he knew it would be.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This tells me you are ready,” Mace says, and plucks it from her hand.  He holds it up to the light.  The crystal is translucent, without a smudge of gray.  It catches the sun, and the light passes through.    </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lusianite is a remarkable stone,” he continues.  “Under great pressure, for many years, it is tempered, and becomes something quite different.  In certain worlds, its transformative state is highly sought as a gemstone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace hands the crystal back to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your anger, is it still there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hesitates.  Seeking an answer within herself, as he has taught her.  “It is still there,” Depa confirms.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it the same as you struggled with as a child?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace can feel how deep inside herself Depa descends, slowly seeking, searching for her answer.  He folds himself to the floor, and falls into a light trace, waiting for her to ascend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels her emerge out of her meditation, rising up to float on the surface of the Force like a leaf.  </span>
  <span>Then her eyes open.  “No,” Depa answers.  “It is a part of me I cannot exorcise.  But it is not the same.  It served a purpose for me, once.  It pushed me to excel, to work harder.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I no longer want my anger.  I want to set it down.”  Then all at once, Depa throws off her need for perfection, her drive, and becomes simply a young girl, shoulders bowed.  Her chin is steady, but her mouth quivers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace kneels behind his padawan and takes her heavy coils of braids down from where they are pinned at the nape of her neck, and combs out each strand of hair until her hair hangs loose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have tempered your anger, honed it, transformed it into something quite different.  It is no longer anger,” Mace tells her as he works.  “And now, child, you are ready.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her padawan braid, when he cuts it at her knighting, is woven through with a single clear crystal.</span>
</p><p>
  
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